


The Act of Contrition

by cobalamincosel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mark Lee (NCT), Catholic Guilt, Established Relationship, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Idol, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalamincosel/pseuds/cobalamincosel
Summary: “Confess your sins to me while you masturbate,” Johnny says from the couch he’s seated on.He’s fully dressed, crisp white button-down even his leather loafers are still tied up. He’s got his legs crossed, hands poised gently on his knee. Mark wants to die or explode, or both, really.Mark’s face is burning, his hands shaking on his lap from how turned on he is, his cock straining his jeans while Johnny watches.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 89
Kudos: 531





	The Act of Contrition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetpeche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/gifts).



> This deals with Catholic/Christian themes in a very. uh. horny setting. If that makes you uncomfortable, please look away.
> 
> this is for A, who said "i want to read a fic with this prompt" just cos i showed her the lyrics to 'the valley' by Miguel. 
> 
> the opening lines are:  
>  _I'm your pimp, I'm your pope, I'm your poster baby_  
>  Confess your sins to me while you masturbate  
> Shepard [?], oh baby, like I'm your master babe
> 
> so uh. yeah. oops.

“Confess your sins to me while you masturbate,” Johnny says from the couch he’s seated on. 

He’s fully dressed, crisp white button-down even his leather loafers are still tied up. He’s got his legs crossed, hands poised gently on his knee. Mark wants to die or explode, or both, really. 

Mark’s face is burning, his hands shaking on his lap from how turned on he is, his cock straining his jeans while Johnny watches. 

Sunlight filters in through the blinds, yellow filling the room as the fan whirs in the corner, blowing warm air their way.

This is a scene, they both know it’s a scene, and Mark has the safe word tucked away in his memory. They’ve talked about this extensively, Johnny frowning while he and Mark worked out the specifics of what this new set-up means for them. 

See, the Johnny that Mark knows, that Mark loves, has loved for the last 2 and a half years is a Johnny that is gentle, caring, intuitive to Mark’s needs. They’d taken that love language test and Johnny’s had been acts of service and Mark’s had been quality time. They work well together, and in the time they’ve known each other, there’s nothing that has ever left Mark wanting. 

But that doesn’t mean that Mark hasn’t wanted to mix things up a little, hasn’t wanted to try out some of the things he’s watched, the things that Donghyuck has mentioned to him that he and Doyoung do sometimes. 

“Roleplay,” Donghyuck had said. “It’s all fantasy. You get to pretend to be other people.” 

Now, Mark’s aware that this is fucked up for a lot of reasons. It is a lot of his Christian guilt tied into growing up repressing himself until he’d moved out of home and to Chicago for college. Hell, he hadn’t even really properly jacked off until he was 18, having just willed his erections away while he still lived under his parent’s roof. 

And here’s the thing: Mark’s still prayerful. He still closes his eyes and clasps his hands together before sleeping, sending out thanks to the Lord for his beautiful life with Johnny wrapped around him, for the apartment they share, for the fact that when he came out to his family, his mother had taken him into her arms with a sob and his father had clapped him on the back and said, “We love you no matter what, son.” 

So Mark is still a believer. 

But also, Mark seems to get really horny with like, Catholic role play. 

He knows! He knows it’s fucked up. He is well fucking aware that it’s messed up, but God, he’s also a 22-year-old man with needs and he has a boyfriend who so lovingly is willing to address and provide Mark the things he needs.

It just so happens that what Mark needs is to be told to jack off in front of his boyfriend while said boyfriend pretends to be a priest hearing his confession. 

And boy, is Johnny good at playing the part, even if he doesn’t look it. Johnny had suggested he wear a brown robe for this, but Mark had vetoed the whole cosplaying St. Francis bit. 

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned,” Mark says, his palms down on his jeans, his eyes downcast. His heart is racing so much. This isn’t supposed to be turning him on, but as it is, Mark is already close to blowing his load, though that’s probably more to do with the fact that Johnny is looking at him like he wants to lick Mark from head to toe than anything else. “It has been… years since my last confession. My— my sins are…” 

Johnny clears his throat, and looks pointedly at Mark’s crotch, spurring Mark to move into action, his fingers flying to the silver button and dragging the zipper down, its teeth parting to reveal the bulge he was there in his grey briefs. There is a wet spot that should be embarrassing, but instead, make Johnny lick at his lips, and that’s all Mark cares about. 

“Father,” Mark says, pulling his cock out and smearing his precum over the head of his shaft and down the length. “My gravest sin is that of lust.” 

Mark watches Johnny watch him, Johnny’s eyes trained on how Mark’s stroking over himself, his legs splayed open wide so Johnny can see everything. 

“There is a man, father,” Mark continues, his breath starting to become labored. “I desire constantly. I think about him all the time, I think about how good he looks in the mornings when I wake up, I think about how good he feels when he’s inside me.”

Johnny moves his legs, squeezes them together tighter as Mark continues talking. Thank God. He’s not the only one getting turned on by this. 

“Father,” Mark groans, hooking his thumb into his briefs and the vee of his open jeans to move them out of the way, so that Johnny can see how tight Mark’s balls are even if they’ve only just begun. “Father, when he isn’t around, I think about his cock. I think about how he feels in my mouth.” 

Johnny visibly swallows. 

“And what do you do when you have these thoughts?” Johnny replies, his voice so low Mark can barely hear him. 

“I touch myself, father,” Mark says. “Just like this. Sometimes,” Mark pauses to spit in his hand before slicking the way down his length again. “Sometimes I can’t help it. I’ll go to the bathroom at work and push my pants down and fuck into my hand thinking of him.” 

Mark keeps fisting his cock slowly while Johnny watches his hand move, and it’s exhilarating, this entire scene they’re playing out. Mark hadn’t known that he’d enjoy putting on a show. He hadn’t known that Johnny clearly enjoyed watching one, either. 

“I lust for this man all the time, father,” Mark continues, a small smile beginning to form on his lips as Johnny takes his own lower lip between his teeth, a sure sign that Johnny is trying to keep his composure. “I always want him to have his hands on my body.”

“You are aware that this is a grave sin,” Johnny intones, but he’s starting to crack. Mark can tell. This has gotten just so much more exciting. Johnny’s knuckles are white. Oh, Mark is going to have so much fun with him.

“Yes, father,” Mark says, gasping as he feels his resolve start to crumble. He’s so fucking close so he pauses, squeezes around the base as his cock twitches in an aborted attempt at release. He has to at least make it to the fucking penance. 

Mark feels his hole clench around the plug he has inside of him-- a treat that he hadn’t told Johnny about, as a thank you for their first foray into roleplay. This is very mild, by Donghyuck’s standards, but Mark thinks it is a huge step for them, given that they’ve never actually delved much into anything that wasn’t their favorite doggie style or missionary position. 

“But,” Mark whispers, slowly stroking himself again now that he’s gotten himself under some control. “That doesn’t stop me. Sometimes, when we’re in public, I have to resist the urge to crawl under the table and blow him, father. I can never tell him that I don’t care about dinner when all I really want is his cock.” 

“Fuck,” Johnny says, and his voice is straining. His hands are squeezing on his thighs, his trousers clearly too tight on him as his legs uncross and part to give Mark a view. “Pineapple. Pineapple. Mark, baby, I’m so sorry, I can’t hold back anymore, please can I touch you?” 

Mark smiles, coaxes another drop of precum from the head of his cock. 

“What are you waiting for?” Mark says, and Johnny falls to his knees, hitting the carpet beneath them, crawling to Mark as Mark leans back and spreads his legs to give Johnny better access. Johnny’s eyes look wild when Mark peers into them, his gaze ravenous as he takes Mark by the base and swallows Mark down like a starving man, the head of his cock hitting the back of Johnny’s throat and making Mark groan out, his fingers gripping Johnny’s hair as he bobs up and down Mark’s dick. 

_This is supplication_ , Mark thinks as Johnny rises on his knees to lean in and capture his boyfriend’s lips in a searing kiss, Johnny’s mouth slick with the precum from Mark’s cock and his own saliva.

“Johnny,” Mark says, his voice dropping as he cradles Johnny’s face in his hands, Johnny’s own hand still fisting Mark’s hardness slowly. “What’s my penance?”

Mark stands up from the wooden chair in order to push his jeans and briefs down, his bare feet kicking the clothing off to the side as he walks over to the couch, tosses his shirt over his head, and gets on his knees on the carpeted floor, his ass out on display for Johnny who no doubt can see the silicon ring of the butt plug inside of him. 

“Oh,” Johnny says from behind him, and Mark folds his arms on the cushions of the couch, rests his cheek on them as he looks back at Johnny, trying to be coy. Mark takes it all in: Johnny’s disheveled hair, his pristine button-down one button away from falling open, his grey slacks tented where Johnny’s cock is straining against the zipper. “Oh, God, you’re profane, Mark Lee.”

Mark doesn’t have much time to register the hands that press into his hips, the hardness that presses against the curve of his ass as Johnny drapes himself over Mark’s back. 

“Hurry,” Mark says, breathless as he feels Johnny move behind him, the _shick!_ of his zipper and the rustle of clothes joining the chorus of Johnny’s heavy breathing before Mark feels a gentle tug on the toy before it’s slipping out of him, the lube he’d worked into himself earlier slowly trickling out, warm down his inner thigh. 

“Jesus Christ, Mark,” Johnny says in wonder, two fingers slipping into Mark easy. “Fuck, you really prepped yourself for this.” 

“Yes, now stop talking and fuck me,” Mark moans before he feels Johnny slide the length of his cock along the cleft of his ass. Mark’s getting so, so impatient, since he’s edged himself all fucking day and--

“Ohhhhh my Jesus fucking Christ,” Mark cries out, pushing hard against Johnny, making Johnny bottom out, the way into Mark’s entrance slicked by all the lube Mark had used to work the toy into him. Johnny fucks into him hard and fast, and other times Johnny would draw this out, but right now his hips move at a punishing rate, the grip of Johnny’s hands tight on Mark’s hips. “Use me, Johnny, fuck, yes just like that!” 

Mark’s toes are curling, his chest feels like it is about to fly apart. His neglected cock bounces against his abdomen with every earth-shattering thrust of Johnny’s into Mark, the sound of skin slapping on skin mingling with the both of them swearing under their breaths. Mark’s head is swimming, and suddenly there’s a hand in his hair and Mark full-body shudders before Johnny pulls him up, the pain worth it for the spike of pleasure that courses through Mark’s spine at being man-handled. Fucking finally. 

Mark braces himself with his hands against the couch cushions. Belatedly, he wishes that he’d had the foresight to pull one off and put them under his knees but it’s a thought that gets interrupted when Johnny finally wraps his warm hand around Mark’s cock and rips his orgasm from Mark in a few short strokes, Mark’s cum steaking all over the carpet beneath them and the suede of the cushions, Mark moaning Johnny’s name like it is a hymn. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Johnny growls into Mark’s ear, his hips now erratic in their movements. “So fucking beautiful, Markie.” 

Mark feels it before he hears it, the twitch of Johnny’s cock inside of him as he spills his heat into Mark, Johnny’s hips coming to an abrupt pause as he buries himself deep, deeper into Mark like he’s breeding him, and Mark could die just like this, Johnny’s sex just pinning Mark in place. If his heart were to stop right now, Mark is sure that any concept of heaven would look exactly like this: with Mark’s ass filled with Johnny’s cum, Johnny sheathed in him to the hilt. 

As Johnny catches his breath and Mark regains his, Mark feels Johnny press a kiss to Mark’s shoulder before pulling out. 

“Wait,” Mark says, reaching behind him to land his hand on Johnny’s ass. “Plug me up again.” 

“Oh my God,” Johnny groans, fucking back into Mark even if they both know he’s already soft. “What the fuck, you’re so fucking filthy all of a sudden.”

Johnny pulls out slowly, and quickly slides the butt plug back into Mark’s ass, the stretch of it smaller than how girthy Johnny actually is. Mark clenches around it, content. Johnny groans as he rises and flops down on the couch properly, rubbing at his knees with his hands while he looks down at Mark with the goofiest fucking smile ever. 

“Get over here, Markie,” Johnny says, spreading his legs and slapping his thigh. He hasn’t even tucked his soft cock back into his pants yet, but Mark shrugs it off and moves to wiggle his ass into the space between Johnny’s legs. Mark leans back, Johny’s chest firm and warm behind him, while Johnny runs his hands over Mark’s abdomen and nipples gently. 

“Was that okay?” Johnny asks, pressing a soft kiss to the spot right behind Mark’s ear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold out any longer. I just-- I’ve never heard you dirty-talk like that before. It was driving me crazy.”

“I feel like I did more damage than either of us expected,” Mark laughs, a little ticklish now that Johnny’s running the tips of his fingers down Mark’s sides. Johnny laughs with him, low and warm and tender.

“The mouth on you, Mark, who’d have known you had it in you?” Johnny teases, his hand gently rubbing on Mark’s still-sensitive cock, though he can already feel the stirrings of arousal starting to take hold again. There’s really something about this newfound sexual freedom that’s got Mark all riled up. 

Mark turns his head and they kiss, slow, deep, Johnny’s tongue sweeping over Mark’s lower lip and coaxing it between Johnny's teeth. Mark sighs between kisses, his entire body satiated but still buzzing. Johnny’s fingers slip in between Mark’s as they rest on Mark’s belly. Mark thinks he could stay like this forever. 

The warm air blown by their fan begins to cool, and Mark feels himself begin to slip into a slumber before Johnny says, “Hey Markie, how do you feel about the rosary?”

Mark groans. “I’ve created a fucking monster.” 

That’s a conversation for another day. 

**Author's Note:**

> (・_・;)


End file.
